Mr. Bloomsbury – Mister Series Read Online Louise Bay

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
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“You know, your boss sounds like a real arsehole.”

All the blood in my body sank to my feet. I gripped the barstool to stop myself from toppling over. Before I could think of what to say in return, he left.

I slumped back on my stool like I’d been shot. I should remember not to ever tempt fate by saying that my day couldn’t get any worse. Tonight was proof that however bad it was, there was always a path down further into the gutter.

“A Kate Winslet,” Tony said, sliding a drink toward me. I tried not to gag. What had just happened?

“That guy,” I said, nodding toward the door that Andrew had just gone through. “His name is James?”

“Yeah,” he said. “A regular. Why? Did he say something to you?”

I shook my head, entirely confused. “You’re sure he’s James?”

Tony laughed. “I’m sure. You just heard me call him James. Twice.”

Why on earth would Andrew be going around calling himself James?

“You think he heard me complaining about my boss?”

Tony shrugged. “I guess. I mean, he was at the table directly behind you.”

I turned on my stool to see exactly how close Andrew had been when I was describing him as a prison camp guard. My heart hitched itself up into my mouth. There was a two-foot gap between my stool and his table. There was no way he couldn’t have heard.

“And he was there for how long?” I didn’t know why I was asking. He’d managed to run up a hundred-eighty-dollar check. He must have been there a while. I just wanted to understand exactly how much he’d heard.

“He was there before you, wasn’t he?” Tony asked. “Or maybe he came in just after you. I can’t remember. But don’t worry about it. Plenty of people have sat on that stool and complained about their boss. It’s not like he’d care.”

I pushed my fingers through my hair. This was horrendous. I needed to get home and crawl into bed and hopefully wake up and realize this entire day had been the worst dream in the history of dreams.

“I need my check, please,” I said. More alcohol wasn’t going to help. Nothing would. Not only was my boss an asshole of epic proportions—he also knew that I thought so. Was it even worth going into the office on Monday? He was bound to fire me. I wasn’t sure why he’d waited. Why hadn’t he fired me on his way out? Probably so he could torture me a little more by making me come in and face the music.

Today had been a disaster. I might hate Andrew Blake, but I really needed this job. Maybe if I apologized, this time without throwing my beverage down my front. I could explain that I was just disappointed about Natalie leaving and feeling a little sorry for myself.

Nope. That wouldn’t work. Not on a man with an ego like Andrew Blake’s. I was going to have to come up with a miraculous idea between now and Monday morning or face the prospect of unemployment again.

Nine

Sofia

If waking up and realizing that I had bitched and complained about my boss for at least an hour with him two feet away wasn’t enough, my cocktail-mixing hangover was in full swing.

And if the threat of unemployment and a hangover wasn’t bad enough, I was about to meet my father for the first time. Kill. Me. Now.

All I wanted to do was take a sleeping pill, crawl back into bed, and wake up sometime next June. Instead, I was wandering around, Google Maps open on my phone, trying to find my father’s house, where I was going for lunch.

I checked my phone to make sure that the address he’d sent said number seventy-one. Yup, this was definitely the house. Most houses in London had an intercom and eleventy million buttons, one for each apartment cramped in behind the door. But this one had just one button. Of course it did, because my father was rich as sin. And that’s exactly why I was here.

“God forgive me for the lies I’m about to tell. I’m trying to make my mom better,” I said, glancing at the sky and making the sign of the cross. I took a deep breath and hit the bell.

I didn’t have to wait long before I heard locks being unbolted and the door swung open to reveal a man in a red sweater. He had the exact same cheekbones as me.

“Sofia?” he asked and shook his head. “Of course it is.” He opened his arms and made a sweeping gesture, inviting me inside. “Thank you so much for coming. We’re all very excited to meet you.”

“Is she here?” a girl squealed from further down the entrance hall.

A child raced toward us wearing an old-fashioned, green-and-blue-checkered dress and blue velvet headband.



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